


In the Kitchen

by greenmage128



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [16]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-20 16:54:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2436017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenmage128/pseuds/greenmage128
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The pizza man… overhears a bit more than he should.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Kitchen

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted August 8, 2014 for [Quick Fic Friday](http://dandelionwhiskey.tumblr.com/quickficfriday). Totally not influenced by my typical choice for a Friday/Saturday night; I don't know what you're talking about.

Alfie didn’t hate much, but he hated delivering to apartment buildings. Even more so when the customer lived on the top floor, and there either was no elevator or it was “out of service”, as this one was, mocking him from its dusty corner of the lobby. It was also a muggy August day, and the heat from the fresh-out-of-the-oven pizza was probably going to leave a mark on his arm by the time this was done.

Finally he reached the top floor, sweaty and trying not to look grumpy from his trek up the stairs. With a deep breath and a forced smile, Alfie rang the doorbell to Apartment 14B.

A blond man in a gray shirt opened the door, wearing a look Alfie could sympathize with. “Ah, good. You blokes are fast, I’ll give you that.”

“30 minutes or less. I just need you to sign this for me.” Alfie handed him the receipt and a pen, quietly hoping he’d get a good tip out of all this.

There was a bang from inside the apartment, and a deep voice yelled, “Damn it, Gabriel! Get out of the kitchen!”

“Hey, I was trying to help! Your burgers were looking… poofy.”

“Well now they’re going to be meat-pucks instead of burgers, no thanks to you.”

The blond gave the signed receipt back, and Alfie exchanged it for the pizza wordlessly, totally not trying to peer around his shoulder to see what the hub-bub was about.

“Dinner party gone horribly wrong,” the blond said, chuckling. “Or as we call it, Friday. Have a nice evening.”

As the door closed, the smell of smoke and burnt something—oh dear God, what was that?—hit Alfie’s nose. He stared at the apartment numbers for a bit longer and then diverted his attention down to the receipt. Alfie blinked. A two hundred percent tip on a one-pizza delivery? That he could get used to. He hated to wish bad things on people, but…

“Ooh, pizza! Sweet!”

“Well at least we’ll have something to eat.”

“Why are you looking at me? A good chef should be able to recover from anything. And at least I made dessert.”

“Except you always make dessert, so it doesn’t really count here, Gabe.”

“And it better taste like fucking ambrosia.”

“You bet your delicate ass it will.”

Or perhaps he would take this one and run and hope to never, ever come back to this apartment.


End file.
